


Colors

by JhanaMay



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, cargo pants porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 16:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7369297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JhanaMay/pseuds/JhanaMay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living in Hawaii and surviving the 5-0 has required that Danny learn how to read the many moods of Steve's cargo pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colors

**Author's Note:**

> For Christine, because she's an evil person who insists on dragging me into new fandoms when I'm already overbooked.

Blue is a really good color. Danny has always associated various shades of blue with home. It’s the color of his old Newark Police Department uniform, the New York Yankees logo, and the eyes of the first girl he ever slept with. There's no arguing with the fact that blue is a damn good color.

Since moving to Hawaii, blue has taken on even more significance. It’s the color of a dozen different flowers, most of which Danny doesn’t even know the names of, Gracie’s favorite sundress, and the ocean where it butts against the beach behind Steve’s house. Hawaii may not have always been home, but the island is beginning to feel more and more like it. Maybe it has something to do with all the blue.

It’s hard not to notice, then, that Steve’s favorite pair of cargo pants are blue. An unobservant person might miss the fact that Steve actually owns three different pairs of blue cargo pants, given that they’re almost identical in color. An observant person, which Danny definitely prides himself on being, would recognize that each pair has a slight imperfection that sets it apart from the others.

Danny hates when Steve wears the pair with the cut in the thigh. A perp they caught drugging girls at one of the high-end resorts stuck a six-inch switchblade in his leg last October. Two inches to the right and the asshole would have hit the femoral artery. Steve might have bled out before they got him to the hospital. Luckily, the punk kid had shitty aim and Steve, insane person that he is, just throat-punched the twerp before calmly pulling out the knife and stripping off his own t-shirt to wrap around the wound. Danny very resolutely stopped himself from appreciating the way Steve’s muscles moved under his skin as they dragged the guy back to the car.

If you don’t know where to look, or if you are extremely uncomfortable staring at Steve’s crotch, you might not even notice the cut. The next time Danny saw the pants, the slice had been carefully sewn up with neat, tidy stitches that made it almost invisible. Apparently, that’s a thing the SEALS teach you to do; wash your own blood out of your clothes and sew up the cut like you’re somebody’s maiden aunt. Thank god that pair isn’t Steve’s favorite.

The second pair, which is almost indistinguishable from the first, has a singe on the thigh pocket on the left side. Danny doesn’t really like that pair either, but it’s not because he’d had a moment to imagine what life would be like without Steve McGarrett in the car beside him. No, it is because that crazy motherfucker had almost gotten them both killed in the blast that caught his pants on fire. It was after that incident that Danny started doing periodic sweeps of his car for grenades Steve might have stashed somewhere inside.

Steve’s favorite pair of pants is distinguishable from the other two pairs if you’re really paying attention because they’re just slightly darker blue. It could be because they’re newer and haven’t been washed as often as the other pairs, or it might be because Steve hasn’t had a chance to slide across pavement or body slam someone into the sand on Waikiki Beach in them yet. Danny always breathes a slight sigh of relief when Steve wears that pair because he’s just a touch less likely to do something entirely mental in them. Steve saves them for when they’re just working around the office or running down easy leads as if he’s protective of them. That’s what makes Danny think they’re his favorite.

One would think, given that Danny is less likely to be shot or blown up or tossed out of a moving car when Steve is wearing those pants, that they would be his favorite pair too. They’re not, though. Steve McGarrett is nothing if not a lover of variety, so he has another half dozen pairs of cargo pants to choose from.

Although Danny has always been partial to brown, given that the color reminds him of his baby girl’s eyes, the dark chocolate pair isn't his favorite either. Steve doesn’t wear them very often and nothing truly heinous has happened to Danny while Steve was wearing them, so he doesn’t really have a strong opinion about them one way or the other. Brown cargo pants are a solid fashion choice if your aesthetic runs to functional military wear, so Danny tends to overlook them more often than not.

Not that many people would realize this, but Steve actually owns two different pairs of green cargo pants, in two slightly different shades of olive. The darker pair is missing the snap on the right side thigh pocket. The last time Steve wore that pair, they spent forty minutes searching the sand along the North Shore for Steve’s phone after he tackled a Samoan drug runner into the surf. At least Danny had been far enough away that Steve hadn’t taken him down in the process that time.

By the time he finished rolling around in the water with the kid and got him cuffed Steve had been soaked from head to toe, so it was probably a good thing his phone had bounced out of the ripped pocket before they hit the water. His pale gray t-shirt molded to his torso in a way that made Danny take a long second look before turning away to call Chin and ask him to send HPD to cart the scumbag off to the precinct. If he followed behind Steve while they were looking for his phone, it was only because he wanted to be sure Steve didn’t lose anything else.

Steve tends to wear the more drab pair of pants more often anyway. He says that it’s because the lighter fabric is more comfortable in the Hawaiian heat, but Danny thinks it’s because they have two extra pockets. Danny isn’t sure Steve needs additional space to carry weapons of mass destruction, but he doesn’t complain. The softer weave hugs Steve ass in a way the heavier canvas ones don’t. Never let it be said that Danny Williams isn’t an ass-man.     

When Steve feels like dressing up, he pulls out the gray pants. The lighter pair is for when they need to go to a resort or club to interview prospective informants, and Steve wants to fit in. Danny is pretty sure it has nothing to do with the way women, and sometimes men, hit on him when he’s wearing those pants. He’s not even sure Steve notices that kind of thing when they’re working, what with his freaky ninja focus. Danny notices, though, and he tries not to let it bother him when people put their hands on his partner in a more than friendly manner. He also tries to ignore how Steve is just as immune to advances from buff men as he is from beautiful ladies.

The darker, slate gray pants have a small cut on the left side bottom cuff. Danny can laugh at that imperfection because the story behind it doesn’t involve fire, gun play, or Danny ending up in the hospital. Danny and Grace’s first Christmas on the island, when the 5-0 got together to celebrate, Kono tried to teach Grace how to throw a frisbee. Whether it was intentional, or just the natural exuberance that is one of Danny’s favorite things about his daughter, Grace threw the frisbee straight up and got it lodged in the fronds of one of the taller palm trees surrounding Steve’s deck. Super secret ninja that he is, Steve volunteered to get it down.

Considering that Danny has watched Steve dangle a man off of a building, fling himself out of a helicopter, and face down a thug with an AK-47 armed with only a switchblade and a smirk, watching him shimmy thirty feet into the air using only the powerful muscles in his arms and thighs made Danny’s chest tight in a way that his recklessness never did. When he reached the top and snagged the frisbee, he winked at Grace before tossing it down to her, then came down the tree like an overgrown fireman’s pole. The ease with which he slid down the rough trunk was almost as impressive as the climb had been, right up until his pants snagged on a burr in the bark and stopped him ten feet off the ground.

Used to the efficient, and usually maniacal, way that Steve handles any unforeseen event, Danny wasn’t surprised when he pulled a knife out of a sheath at his lower back and swung sideways on the tree to cut the snagged fabric loose. When he was back on the ground, Danny apologized for the damage and offered to buy him another pair. Steve scrunched up his brow in that way that Danny has come to recognize means that Steve thinks he’s being particularly stupid and just shrugged. He ruffled Grace’s hair, pulled another beer out of the cooler, and the incident was quickly forgotten. Danny hasn’t forgotten, though. Every time he sees those pants with the cut in the cuff, his chest gets tight, and he thinks about how even when he thought he had nothing on this island besides Grace, he had Steve and the 5-0.

The different pairs of cargo pants Steve owns may each have their own story, but blue, brown, green, or gray, Danny has to admit that Steve looks good in all of them. That alone should make it hard to pick a favorite pair. It’s not impossible, though. If pressed, Danny would immediately know which pair he favors the most. Even though Steve was wearing them when he fell down a mountain and broke his arm, when Danny got poisoned, and when Chin was almost blown up by Victor Hesse, Danny would have no problem pointing out that the beige pair is his favorite.

Despite the pain and the shock and fearing for his own and his team’s lives, one of his favorite memories on the island happened when Steve was wearing those pants. They were sitting on the back deck at Steve’s house after a long day, enjoying a few cold ones and arguing about something that must not have been important because Danny doesn’t remember what it was.

Steve walked over to lean on the deck and look out across the ocean, the thousand yard stare he gets when he’s thinking creating a little furrow between his eyebrows. Danny followed and stopped beside him, curling his hands into fists to stop himself from using his thumb to smooth out the worry-lines. After a few moments, Steve took a deep breath and let it out as a quick huff, the way he does when he’s made a decision about something.

He turned to face Danny, and before Danny could ask what was wrong, he raised one hand to cup the back of Danny’s neck, his fingers strong and warm. He paused as if giving Danny a chance to say stop that he would never take, then tugged at the same time as he leaned in. No matter what else happens, no matter what terror he faces while Steve is wearing those slim, beige cargo pants, it is the first press of Steve’s soft lips, the slightly frantic huffs of breath as Steve deepened the kiss, and the feel of the fabric as Danny curled his fingers into the belt loops to drag Steve forward that he will always remember.  

Life with Steve McGarrett is definitely not dull and is filled with more cargo pants than Danny ever thought it was possible for one man to own, but the last thing you’ll ever find is Danny complaining. Whether or not he’ll ever admit it, he has even found all those extra pockets to be a little convenient, as long as Steve hasn’t slipped in a grenade while Danny wasn’t looking.


End file.
